As the cold fog rolls in tonight and the rain continues, I found myself reading the January chapter of "A Calendar of Festivals" by the wonderful English writer Marian Green. (She has also written books on the wiccan and pagan paths). At the end of the January chapter she quoted part of the children's poem about the Robin which here is so well illustrated by the artist Walter Crane.
I often wonder just how our feathered friends manage in the dark and the cold, and I wish we had a warm barn for them and for the wee four footed creatures of all kinds.
Duncan
The North Wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what shall the poor robin do then?
Poor thing!
He'll sit in the barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing!
The North Wind doth blow, And we shall have snow,
And what will the dormouse do then?
Poor thing!
Rolled up like a ball,
In his nest snug and small,
He'll sleep till warm weather comes in.
Poor thing!
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